outcast from our mothers
by flowermasters
Summary: Kylo spends some quality time with Leia. AU where Kylo is a girl.
A/N: ... When will I stop? We just don't know.

Warnings for: cisgirl Kylo, Kylo/Hux, pregnancy/motherhood/children/etc, mild references to death/torture/violence, mentions of past child abuse and neglect, discussion of a past suicide.

The title comes from "Outcast" by Mainland, a song which has nothing to do with this but is so cute.

* * *

Hux is surprisingly docile about the entire thing, which is really more an indicator of how exhausted he is than how cooperative he actually wants to be. He hasn't said a word since they were escorted from the Falcon, and Kylo – unused to silence from Hux, who can generally find _something_ to complain about in any given situation – is having a hard time handling it. "Hux needs to eat," Kylo says, once she's settled onto her mother's couch, resisting the urge to relieve the ache in her thigh by rubbing at it. "He hasn't, really – not in days."

Leia looks over at Hux, somewhat appraisingly. He's propped against a nearby bookshelf in what he seems to hope is a casual manner; he looks like a sudden gust of wind might knock him over. Kylo is painfully aware of the family pictures displayed on the shelves he leans against, although Hux himself seems not to have noticed. "I've already called for a doctor for Beni," Leia says. She continues, unperturbed, when Kylo hisses in rage. "Do you need medical care?"

The question is clearly directed at Hux, who nevertheless seems surprised to hear it. "No," he says, rather automatically. "Thank you."

"Good," Leia says, "because it's probably for the best if nobody else sees you. There's plenty of food in the kitchen; you can help yourself. It's just down the hall to your left."

Hux's gaze flicks to Kylo, who frowns but nods. Hux then glances briefly at Padmé, currently sleeping with her head lolling against Leia's shoulder. It isn't that he doesn't trust Leia, it's just – he doesn't trust anyone, really, except Kylo. Nevertheless, he straightens up and heads for the kitchen, too lethargic to even react when Kylo sends him a soft _I'll get us out of here_.

Once Hux is out of sight, Leia looks toward a doorway on the opposite side of the spacious living room. She's barely taken three steps when Kylo asks, "Where are you taking her?"

"I moved her crib to the guest room before I left," Leia says, shifting her grip on Padmé carefully. Padmé doesn't react; she sleeps like the dead when it suits her. She'd barely even roused when Leia took her, back on the Falcon – with a temporarily bum leg, Kylo couldn't carry Padmé and move without jostling her, and nobody really trusted Hux to hold himself up for much longer, let alone Padmé. Still, Kylo had felt it, a tiny burst of energy as Padmé vaguely sensed Leia's presence, recognized it, and went directly back to sleep. Such trust, already, for a person Padmé last encountered while still a newborn. "I thought you'd want her with you tonight."

Kylo opens her mouth to snap _I'm not staying here_ , but she catches herself at the last minute. Padmé can sleep in the crib, for now. There's no harm in that. "Alright," Kylo mutters. Leia disappears for a moment, then returns, now empty-handed.

Before either of them can break the silence – not that Kylo would even know what to say, had she wanted to speak – someone knocks on the door. A doctor, Kylo senses, but more importantly a total stranger. Good. One uncomfortable reunion is about all Kylo can tolerate in a single night. Banishing thoughts of Poe from her mind, Kylo looks darkly at her mother. "I don't want a doctor."

"Be that as it may – you do _need_ one," Leia says, moving to get the door. The doctor who enters is a smiling woman who greets Leia warmly. She only looks slightly uneasy at the sight of Kylo, so very out of place here, her robes by far the darkest things in this light, open space. _Like a stain_ , Kylo thinks, suddenly aware of the even darker splotches on her robe where blood has seeped into the fabric and dried.

This doctor has been practicing medicine long enough to know, intuitively, when a patient is not in the mood to be harassed. She makes quick use of her medisensor, pausing only briefly with it aimed at Kylo's stomach. When nothing happens, Kylo mulishly crosses her arms, hiding the swell of her belly. "Nothing to worry about, dear," Leia's doctor friend says, taking this gesture for an indication of nervousness. "The little one's just fine."

Kylo says nothing, although she wants to snap _I know._ She keeps her arms where they are, and remains silent while the doctor removes the bandage on her thigh and inspects the wound. Kylo is oddly aware of Leia's presence, so to distract herself she reaches out to Hux. He's in Leia's kitchen, eating – toast, of all things.

 _Toast_ , Kylo says. _Really?_

"Fuck," Hux blurts, startled. It's just loud enough that the doctor hears it echoing down the hallway, but she wisely decides not to comment. Leia merely raises an eyebrow, a familiar expression which Kylo ignores.

 _Sorry_ , Kylo sends, more gently this time.

 _Why are you lurking in my head, Lady Ren? Shouldn't you be in the middle of a medical exam?_

 _I_ _am_ , Kylo says. _It's annoying._ Hux thinks she sounds petulant. This observation just makes Kylo more petulant, so she withdraws from his mind, letting him feel it as she does so. Apparently she's missed something, judging by the way she's currently being stared at.

"Beni," Leia prompts, frowning. Kylo grimaces.

"Sorry," she blurts automatically. "I was just – nothing. Thank you." Kylo directs this last bit at the doctor, who seems to be in the process of packing her things.

"You're quite welcome," the woman says, pleasantly enough to make Kylo uncomfortable. "Make sure you stay off that leg, alright, dear?"

Kylo says nothing, but gives a stiff nod. Leia steps in, smoothly moving to guide the doctor to the door. "Thank you, Althaea. Again, I'm very sorry for troubling you in the middle of the night like this –,"

"Nothing to worry about, nothing at all!" trills the doctor, and that's roughly the point at which Kylo starts tuning them both out again. Kylo looks down at her re-bandaged thigh, inspects it briefly, then lets her gaze drift to something she hadn't noticed before – a little toy block, discarded on the floor next to her booted foot.

As it turns out, there are toys scattered all about the room. Padmé has clearly been well entertained for the brief duration of her stay here. Some of the toys are clearly new, but to Kylo's horror, some of them are also visibly quite old. A doll's arm sticks out from under the coffee table, and Kylo draws it out with the Force unthinkingly, staring down into its glossy black eyes. It's grown faded over the years, a bit more worn, but Kylo remembers this doll vividly, and it takes her a few moments to tear her gaze from it.

Kylo hears the door shut and glances up, blinking a few times to clear her mind. _It's safe to come out now_ , she tells Hux, and a moment later she hears the quiet thud of approaching footfalls.

Hux clears his throat upon entering, drawing both Kylo and Leia's attention. Hux finds the simultaneous swivel of their heads distinctly unnerving, but he doesn't allow for any indication of it. "I was wondering if I might use the refresher," he says. "To shower, that is."

Hux absolutely loathes being unclean anyway, but the fact that he's been around total strangers while filthy is grating at his already frayed nerves. He thinks it's undignified. Kylo could use a shower herself, but she's really in no mood for it. Her dignity has already suffered a very literal blow, anyway, thanks to this stupid wound on her leg. "I've set up my guest room for you two," Leia says neutrally, lifting a hand to indicate the room where she'd taken Padmé. "You're welcome to use the shower in there."

Hux nods stiffly and heads for the guest room, sparing Kylo a brief glance as he passes. Once Hux showers, Kylo decides, they'll go, no matter what Leia says.

Leia must not pick up on this rather mutinous sentiment, because she walks closer and then settles into the chair next to the couch Kylo currently occupies. Her gaze drops unerringly to the doll, now lying in full view on the floor, smiling blankly up at the ceiling. Of course. Leia always had been too perceptive.

Well. Perhaps not always.

Kylo refuses to think about that, and thus opens her mouth and says something, anything, purely for the sake of saying it. "I didn't know you kept all this – junk."

The corners of Leia's mouth twitch, ever so slightly. "It wasn't junk to me."

Kylo looks away. "You couldn't possibly have known that – that somebody would use this stuff again."

Leia shrugs. "I didn't. That's not why I kept them, anyway."

Some small, weak part of Kylo twitches at the thought of her mother holding onto these useless playthings, the forgotten companions of a lost daughter. Kylo says nothing, and Leia fills in the silence. Another thing she's always been good at, when the moment calls for it. "Padmé likes that one," Leia says, nodding at the ratty little doll. "I think she felt you in it."

"That's not possible," Kylo says automatically. She hasn't touched that doll in decades, hasn't even _thought_ about it –

"She asked for you," Leia says gently. "I gave it to her, and the minute she touched it, it was like she knew."

Kylo opens her mouth to refute this, to insist that Leia must be mistaken – there's no way Padmé could've recognized Kylo's presence on the doll, because only Beni Solo would've touched that thing, and Padmé doesn't know Beni Solo. Speaking suddenly seems rather difficult, though, given the sudden and unpleasant tightness in her throat. Kylo blinks furiously, willing away exhausted, hormonal tears. Leia notices, because of _course_ she does.

"I always suspected it was more difficult with a Force-sensitive child," Leia says, her tone weirdly reassuring. Kylo allows the distraction and frowns at Leia in confusion.

"What?" Kylo asks, her voice mercifully only slightly thicker than normal. "Being pregnant?"

"Yes. Of course, I only did it once, but it felt like I had a harder time than most," Leia muses. "You gave me the strangest dreams before you were born. I still remember them."

Darkly, Kylo wonders how many of those strange dreams came true, but she doesn't have the heart or the energy to ask. "Maybe it is," Kylo says. "I've never really considered it." Even if she had, it wouldn't have made much difference. Padmé had been worth all the trouble, and now there's the boy to think about, too. He's been a strange comfort over the past several days, hormones and intermittent nausea aside. Kylo has no illusions about him being anywhere close to big enough to understand anything at all, but sometimes he moves when she uses the Force to check on him – like he feels her reaching for him. It's improbable, of course, but it's a pleasant thought, all the same.

"Well, it can't have been too difficult the first time," Leia says mildly, raising her eyebrows. "Since you're doing it again, I mean."

Leia hadn't known about the second baby, of course – not until Kylo had shown up here with Padmé, half out of her mind with panic and fury. Kylo frowns and says nothing, because something in her balks at the idea of explaining the accidental nature of her condition. Part of it is pride, definitely, but there's also a healthy dose of childish awkwardness. Hux would have a field day with this, the notion that she's embarrassed to hint at sex in conversation with her mother.

Reminded then of Hux, Kylo reaches for him briefly; he's still scrubbing himself nearly raw in the shower, convinced in his exhausted delirium that he'll never be rid of all the dirt that's accumulated on him over the past several days. Kylo leaves him alone for the moment, knowing he'll tucker himself out soon enough, and checks briefly on Padmé, who is still soundly asleep.

"They're both fine," Leia says soothingly, having either sensed this status check or simply guessed at it, and Kylo resists the urge to squirm. It's been years and it still doesn't feel – _right_ , having Leia be so nice, after everything.

"I know," Kylo says, frustrated. "I was just – I don't know."

"You're worried," Leia says, with a little wave of her hand. "It's natural." She pauses, and then says, "I meant what I said before, about not letting anybody see Hux – naturally, he's quite recognizable – but if he's in need of it, I can get him medical care. I didn't exactly expect him to be honest with me when I asked if he needed it."

Kylo isn't particularly worried about a stranger seeing Hux; memories were easy enough to destroy, if you knew how to rip them out. If push came to shove, that person would be dead long before they could lay a hand on him, anyway. Kylo wisely does not express any of this to Leia. "He's alright," Kylo says. "Well. He will be, soon."

"Very well," Leia says. "I'd hoped to speak with him briefly, once he's rested."

Kylo does her best to look intimidating, but she's never known her mother to be intimidated. She at least tries not to plead, but isn't quite successful. "Don't ask Hux anything," she says. "About his father, I mean. He doesn't know anything."

Leia raises her eyebrows, the only hint of skepticism that she betrays. She doesn't seem very surprised that Kylo already knows about this, either. "He has no contact with the First Order?" she asks. "Not even personal contact with his father?"

"No," Kylo says bluntly. "They aren't close. Never were."

That's almost an understatement; Hux hasn't spoken to his father directly in years, not since before Kylo even met him. There may have been the occasional private communique here and there, years ago, but nothing like what Leia might be interested in now. Kylo wonders, briefly, how Leia would react if she knew the things about Hux that only Kylo knows – that his father was cold to him, sometimes violent, and that Hux has absolutely no pleasant memories shared between the two of them, no reason to mind whether his father lives or dies. Leia doesn't care one bit about Hux's past outside of Starkiller base, Kylo knows, but – perhaps she might pity him, then, just a bit. Hux would hate that, and so Kylo says nothing.

Still, Leia seems to have caught on to something, entirely without Kylo's permission. Her expression softens, but only slightly. "He must have a mother, somewhere," Leia presses. "He doesn't speak to her either?"

"Of course Hux has a mother," Kylo snaps, resenting the implication that Hux sprung into existence of his own accord, like some sort of bacteria in a dish for his father to cultivate. "Well – had one. She died when he was a child." Padmé's age, really, or maybe a few months older. Young enough that Hux has no solid memory of her, outside of what he's seen in a handful of pictures.

Kylo had spoken about her with Hux only once, before Padmé was born. "She was – pretty, I suppose," Hux had said, confused about why Kylo could possibly care even as he dredged up one of those old memories to present to her, contemplating what he can recall of his mother's appearance. She had an elegant face with a familiar pout of a mouth and ash brown hair; that was all he knew of her, and all he ever will. "I look a bit like her. Except for the hair, of course."

"How did she die?" Kylo remembers asking. She'd sensed a flicker of it, in Hux's mind, but her curiosity demanded more. Hux had been busy thinking of a nanny droid, purchased shortly after his mother died – _probably_ _right around the time Father realized I couldn't feed myself yet._ That droid is integral to most of Hux's earliest memories, and Kylo had caught a strange hint of fondness for it in his thoughts then, a stifled nostalgia.

"My father told me it was poison," Hux had said, putting it all firmly from his mind and drawing a blanket over the both of them. Kylo had tucked herself against his side, her stomach still flat enough then to allow her to nestle her body against his. "We didn't talk about it much, but I suspect it was by her own hand."

 _It wasn't much of a surprise when I figured it out_ , Hux had told her silently. _I can't say I blame her._

Thinking of this now, Kylo feels a resurgent wave of _something_ – protectiveness, possessiveness, intense worry. "I see," Leia says, startling Kylo from her reverie, as well as making Kylo wonder exactly _what_ she sees. "Alright. I won't discuss it with him, if he has nothing of value to tell me."

Kylo gives Leia a wary look, then manages, "Thank you."

Leia nods, then seems to feel a change of subject is in order. Kylo privately agrees. "You ought to get some rest," Leia says. "Are you in any pain?"

"No," Kylo says. "I can't stay here, Mother."

Leia sighs, but seems to swallow her frustration. Her tone, when she speaks, is a tad placating. Kylo abhors being placated. "Do it for your own sake, and for Padmé's. It's only for tonight, Beni."

Kylo bristles, opening her mouth to argue – _you can't keep me here, I won't let you, I want to take Hux and Padmé and go home, damn it_ – but she doesn't get the chance. "Kylo?" Hux says from across the room. Kylo turns her head to look at him instinctively. It's very rare that Hux manages to sneak up on her, but sometimes he gets lucky.

He's standing in the doorway to the guest room, wearing fresh clothes. Leia's provided him with a pair of dark grey trousers and a green sweater that's slightly too large. It's strange, to see him so casually dressed in front of anybody but Kylo herself and Padmé. Hux has made an effort to slick back his damp hair, although he hasn't been very successful. Right now she can feel the drowsiness rolling off of him in waves; he's thinking _bed, please, come to bed. I don't care if the entire Resistance shows up here in the morning, just –_

Kylo caves, because of course she does; Hux is fresh from being kidnapped, and could probably get absolutely anything he asked for right now. She sighs and says, "Come over here."

Hux does, offering her his arm so that she can grip it for balance while she stands, bearing most of her weight on her right leg. Leia stands, too, but mercifully doesn't attempt to assist. It's bad enough having to get Hux to help her hop around.

"Good night," Leia says calmly, once Hux and Kylo have made it to the doorway.

"Night," Kylo mumbles automatically. Once Hux shuts the door behind them, she lets out a heavy sigh of relief and limps to the bed before sitting on the foot of it. The side of the bed closest to the crib looks distinctly mussed; Hux must've tried lying down to rest, but was unsuccessful. Padmé sleeps on, oblivious to all of this.

"There's fresh clothes for you, too," Hux says, rubbing at his stubbly jaw tiredly. "You probably ought to shower. You smell like a battlefield."

Kylo gives an annoyed grunt, and Hux sighs. "Alright, alright, lie in your filth."

He steps away, fetching clothes that hang from the door of a small closet. Kylo squints at them critically in the semi-darkness before muttering, "Fine. Help me out of my pants."

Hux doesn't manage a wise-ass remark, too busy helping Kylo stand up and awkwardly squirm out of her ruined leggings and into the new pair. The tunic – a soft, pale blue thing that Kylo would've never chosen on her own – she puts on by herself, although Hux continues to hover next to her. Briefly, he reaches out and touches the pendant dangling at her throat, a sudden twinge of affection jolting through him. Kylo swats his hand away in order to put on the tunic, but not without smiling.

Kylo begins the process of scooting herself into a position that won't offend either her leg or her stomach, and Hux slips into his assumed side of the bed. The instant she lies down, Kylo can tell why Hux couldn't rest here. The bed is spacious, overwhelmingly so after years of sleeping in their narrow bed in the cottage – and before that, decades of sleeping alone on pallets or in stiff military bunks. Hux settles on his side and is very nearly asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow, sufficiently relaxed now. Kylo, feeling strangely fretful again, immediately reaches out, hauls him bodily across the bed, and – according to Hux's internal monologue – wraps herself around him _like a bloody octopus_.

"Octopi have eight limbs," Kylo points out, her mouth somewhere close to Hux's ear. "I only have four. And just three functioning ones, currently."

Hux hums drowsily. "I'm really _so_ glad we've established the limb ratio of humans to octopi, I had _no_ idea –,"

"Shut up," Kylo mutters, giving him a squeeze. "Somebody has to keep your scrawny ass warm, General." He actually feels somehow skinnier than normal, even though Kylo knows, logically, that a few days' worth of deprivation can't possibly have thinned him up too much. She's fretting over him, which she finds mildly embarrassing.

"Fuck off," Hux replies affectionately.

Hux squirms for a minute or two but doesn't struggle out of her hold, partly out of consideration for the small bump currently nestled against the small of his back, but also because he wants to be held, even if he won't admit it. He falls silent for a moment, half-asleep, but rouses again, remembering something. "You know," he mumbles, forcing his eyes open, "I've been wondering about something."

"Go to sleep, Hux," Kylo orders. "You're exhausted."

"So are you," Hux points out mildly. "I've wondered since I first heard it used, really – just before Padmé was born – but I never asked because it didn't seem relevant. Also, I thought you might kill me."

"Hux," Kylo says irritably. He's joking, of course, but it's not very funny.

Hux ignores this. "Where does your name come from?" he asks. "Is it – I don't know, a family thing?"

"My name?" Kylo says, slightly taken aback.

"Not Kylo Ren," Hux says, closing his eyes again even as he tells himself sternly not to fall asleep, not just yet. "Beni. Well, both, really."

"Oh," Kylo says, although she'd known exactly what he meant from the moment he asked the question. Hux _would_ assume the name had family ties. After all, he's named after his father, meant from birth to carry on an Imperial legacy. It gives Kylo a sort of vicious satisfaction that Hux's children won't bear his name; she gets the impression that Hux, Sr. would've been very displeased, if he knew of their existence. With that said, Hux isn't entirely wrong.

"I think my uncle's original suggestion was Ben, after someone they all knew – but I suppose my parents thought Beni would be more suitable." Kylo doesn't know why she's throwing out phrases like _I think_ and _I suppose_ , as if she doesn't know the story of Ben Kenobi by heart. Well, parts of his story, at least. As a child, Beni had struggled to understand how someone could live under two names; the irony of that is not lost on Kylo now.

"As for 'Kylo', Snoke gave it to me," Kylo adds, somehow only slightly more comfortable discussing this than she'd been while explaining her birth name. "I never asked what it meant."

Hux contemplates this for a moment, and Kylo half-listens to the hum of his tired thoughts. "But you prefer that, don't you?" he asks finally. "I mean – you wouldn't rather be called Beni, surely."

"No," Kylo replies instantly. "For fuck's sake, would you rather be called –,"

"Stars, no," Hux mutters. "You know that. I was only asking, Kylo."

Slightly chagrined, Kylo mumbles, "I know."

"It's got you rattled, hasn't it," he says. "Being here, I mean. I thought you and Organa had reached some sort of – accord, when she came for Padmé's birth."

Kylo refuses to admit to being uncomfortable, but she also can't deny it. "That was different," Kylo says finally. She'd needed Leia then, for reasons Hux isn't cognizant of. Then, evasively, "You're not exactly comfortable here yourself."

"Yes, but this isn't _my_ mother's house," Hux says, "and if we're apprehended, I'm the one whose head will end up on a pike."

"Hux," Kylo warns.

"I'm only joking," Hux says. "It'd probably be a lethal injection, nothing so unsavory as a beheading –,"

"Hux, stop it," Kylo growls against his ear, squeezing him again – not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to say _no, I won't let them, you'll die when I do and not a moment before. Don't you see? Tasya Ren couldn't take you from me, and the Republic can't either._

"Alright, alright," Hux mumbles, wriggling weakly to loosen her hold. Despite his best efforts, he's sliding closer and closer to unconsciousness with each passing moment. Kylo wishes he would just fucking _go to_ _sleep_ already, so she can watch over him in peace. She already knows she won't get any sleep here tonight, or at least not much. She's wound much too tight, and will be for some time yet.

As if hearing all of this – Hux is clever enough not to need the Force to know her mind, sometimes – he mumbles, "You ought to get some rest."

"I'm alright. I slept on the Falcon, remember."

Hux gives a faint grumble of disapproval, but seems to have lost the energy to argue with her, his body gradually going slack as he finally succumbs to sleep. Kylo tucks her chin against his shoulder, clinging tight to each of his inhalations and exhalations. Beyond Hux, there's Padmé, her mind quiet with the occasional interruption of a dream. Beyond her there is Leia, but Kylo does not allow herself to search any further than that – perhaps out of unease, or perhaps out of quiet respect.


End file.
